


Wind in the Trees

by AberrantScript



Category: The Loud House (Cartoon)
Genre: Angst, Depression, No Sex, Oneshot, potential suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-26
Updated: 2018-08-26
Packaged: 2019-07-02 20:51:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15804363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AberrantScript/pseuds/AberrantScript
Summary: Lincoln Loud finds himself a rock in the middle of the woods, and questions the value of living anymore.





	Wind in the Trees

**Author's Notes:**

_Reader be advised:_ a character debates suicide.

Disclaimer:  _The Loud House_  Copyright Nickelodeon (2018)

* * *

WIND IN THE TREES

Lincoln sat down with a heavy sigh.

Some nameless rock in the middle of the forest.

He looked up at the trees; felt the chilling wind run across his face.

You know, the reason he found himself here… he always believed in God.

Nah, he wasn't some crazy idiot or some loony wackjob.

He loved his family and valued their beliefs and choices.

Why fight about stuff, y'know?

He wouldn't even say he was a traditional Christian.

More like… he just believed.

He believed enough that he sat down on a lonely rock just to talk.

He tossed his bag to the grass and leaned back.

His skin crawled as countless eyes bored through him. Like little worms eating through his skin.

Tears gathered in his eyes as he found he couldn't even speak.

After so long a time… of feeling betrayal, of feeling loss, of feeling heartbreak…

No.

He couldn't do it anymore.

Not after last night.

Just one too many.

No friends even left in sight.

Gone, like the winds that carried away leaves.

One by one, to perish, to never be seen again.

He unzipped the bag and pulled out his only remaining friend.

He wet his dry lips, but found he had no saliva left.

His voice a scratchy cough as he leveled his tool at his temple.

Finally, he finds words…

"God."

The only regret he felt in that moment… was remorse for his own beliefs.

"Pull this trigger."

His hand shaking as he fought back the urge to end it all.

"So I don't have to."

An endless battle of despair and hope, betrayal and belief.

And one day, Lincoln realized, he very well may lose.

He pulled out a coin.

"If it's heads, You don't pull the trigger."

He steadied it in his palm.

"And if it's tails, I guess You send me to Hell."

The wind caught the coin mid-air, twisting it around before it fell on the ground before him.

His eyes looked down and a chill ran down his spine.

Looking up at the only One left that cared for him, he spoke one last time.

"Amen, and so be it."

And the rest was only wind in the trees.


End file.
